Shades of Tomorrow
by SilverSeahorse
Summary: In the middle of conflict, all anyone has is each other... Established RR, possible other relationships, please R&R.


**Shades of Tomorrow**

This fic is set in an imaginary civil war type-thing in the modernday era.I'm creating the entire conflict from scratch, and all of the Friends lot will be involved. They won't all necessarily be as we know them from the show, though. A lot of it depends on how I want the story to go! Suspension of disbelief is necessary when reading, cause I'm not setting out to recreate an accurate conflict - it's my imagination!

A few things from the off: Ross and Monica are brother and sister as in the show, and Ross is dating Rachel. They're all around 22-24 and have left school/college and everything butthey're not living in their apartments in the city, they still live at home.We don't know Phoebe or Joey at the start as they don't know the others, and as for Chandler, I haven't decided if I want him to be involved from the start or not. He might just be Ross' friend, or he might turn up in another guise altogether – I'll see what develops! Phoebe and Joey are definitely included, though, I have big plans for both of them ;) It will probably end up slightly Ross/Rachel biased, simply because I feel more comfortable writing them than any of the others, but there WILL be plenty for the others to do, it's not a straight RR fic, not by any means. Oh and to give you some idea of how I think they look, I have an idea in mind of beginning Season 3. I know they're younger in this fic, but that's their look, at least I reckon. Cute and sexy!

I hope you enjoy this fic. It's 100 fiction and the characters from Friends do not belong to me. Any original characters, however, do! Oh and don't worry, I plan to continue my other fics as well!

This chapter is rated R for scenes of a sexual nature.

* * *

**Chapter One: The End of Everything**

_This could be the end of everything_

_So why don't we go _

_Somewhere only we know?_

Ross swore as he bumped his head hard against the wood of the door frame, and straightened up to see a giggling Rachel standing in front of him. Her hair was tied back, she had barely any make-up on and she was dressed in a tatty old T-shirt and shorts, but to Ross she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes upon. Despite the lump quickly forming above his temple, he couldn't help smiling back at his girlfriend.

"Yeah, yeah, just laugh at my pain," he mock-pouted, rubbing the sore spot. "You'll be sorry later."

"Oh yeah? What you gonna do later?" Rachel asked, the suggestion in her voice as clear as a bell.

"That all depends, Miss Greene, on how helpful you are right now," he replied, stepping past her into the dusty, draughty storeroom, slapping her ass as he went. "Come on honey, we've gotta find the tinned food."

Rachel sighed. "Do we really need that? I mean, they're not going to attack this neighbourhood, are they?" She was trying to sound unbothered, but Ross could tell she wasn't as confident as she wanted to believe. He turned and looked at her, hovering in the doorway.

"No, I don't think they will," he said truthfully. In his heart of hearts he didn't think their particular street was under threat from the insurgents, but there was always a possibility something would happen. The movement was so large and unpredictable that certainty in statements was a thing of the distant past, and Ross knew this. He knew that Rachel probably knew this. Still, she wanted reassurance from her boyfriend, and he wasn't about to deny her it.

"Good," she said, folding her arms. "'Cause I like this place, you know? I'd be really pissed off if they ruined it."

Ross smiled at her. "Not as much as Monica would be, after all her decorating," he pointed out. "Anyway, this food collection stuff was her idea. She just wants us to be prepared. Now get your lazy butt over here and take this box." He winked at her as she came to him and took the lightest box he'd found, with packets of dried pasta and a few boxes of cereal. "Oh, sleeping bags. Remind me to tell Mon they're here."

Rachel hopped nervously from foot to foot as she waited for Ross to finish. "Are you sure nothing's gonna happen, Ross? Everyone keeps saying it won't, but there's all this preparation, and my dad's been acting really weird…"

How could he lie to her and say he was sure? How could he tell the truth and say he wasn't? Neither was enough, so he settled for kissing her on the cheek as he went out of the storeroom, Rachel closing the door behind them. Practically the only thing he could promise her now was kisses.

* * *

Monica looked up at the sound of cheerful voices, and seconds later she was joined in the kitchen by her brother Ross and her best friend Rachel, both of whom were laden with cardboard boxes. It made a change, because normally when they were together it was impossible for them to do anything other than hold hands, and Monica sneakily thought how torturous this had to be for them. Secretly she knew she was rather jealous, if only because she'd never had a real, serious boyfriend, a fact her mother was never slow to remind her of. People around her were growing up and doing different things, and Monica felt like she was trapped in some kind of time warp, perpetually cooking and cleaning – tasks she enjoyed doing, but not to the extent that she wanted to spend the rest of her life alone.

"Here you go, Mon," Ross said, dumping his boxes on the floor before helping Rachel with hers. "Best we could find at the moment, but I'll go back down later and have another look. I had no idea Mum and Dad kept all this."

"They don't," Monica replied. "I do."

Rachel nodded. "Should have known," she grinned, reaching over to link hands with Ross. "So, has there been anything on the news?"

Monica noticed the slight edge to Rachel's voice as she asked, and it wasn't surprising. New York City was slowly being taken over, and while the three of them might live in the suburbs, that certainly didn't mean they were one hundred per cent safe. In fact, Monica knew they might end up as more of a target, once the fighting died down in the city – if indeed it ever did.

"I haven't been watching," she answered Rachel. "I'm too busy making us this lasagne for tea."

"Aww, Mon, you didn't have to go to that trouble," Ross said guiltily. "We could easily have got a pizza or something."

"I'm not sure that's a safe idea," Monica said, and Ross nodded in understanding. "Anyway, I had nothing else to do except finish rearranging the ornaments in Mum and Dad's room. Which reminds me, Ross, did they mention what time they'd be home?"

Ross shrugged, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl with his free hand. "Nope, not to me. They haven't gone far, though, just a few streets away Mum said."

Monica hated anyone not being in the house at all times, just in case. She ended up with horrible feelings that something would go wrong, and much preferred it when her family was all together. Rachel was, of course, part of the family, and she only lived around the corner.

"I think it's irresponsible just to go swanning off without giving us full details, especially with all this stuff happening," Monica said, sticking the lasagne in the oven. "I mean, what are they thinking about?"

"It'll be fine, Mon," Rachel said reassuringly. "My parents aren't home either, but they just went out for dinner. They can take care of themselves, I'm sure."

Monica might have believed her, if she hadn't seen Rachel squeeze Ross' hand as she said the last part. None of them was being remotely honest either with themselves or each other, but that was the strongest defence mechanism they had, so Monica didn't say any more, and went through to the living room with Ross and Rachel.

* * *

It was cold, damp and uncomfortable, but in the makeshift bunker behind a long line of rubbish bins, Phoebe Buffay adjusted the rifle on her shoulder and pulled the shades over her eyes. It wasn't so much that she needed to be inconspicuous, it was more that she preferred if the people she was fighting couldn't look into her eyes. That way, she remained emotionally detached from the carnage her people were inflicting upon the outskirts of New York. She knew they couldn't stay here long and that they had to move on tomorrow, but as long as she was here she wanted to play by the book. And that meant not hurting anyone unless they hurt you first.

"You know they're goin' out of the city tonight?" Sarah, Phoebe's friend and front-line partner, sidled up beside her, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. "We were gonna stay longer, but the boss says it's no use. Too many weapons. If we retreat to the suburbs we have a much better chance."

"I said that weeks ago, but no one listened," Phoebe sighed. "I don't know why we're bothering. We're not getting very far and the papers are writing crap about us, so everyone is freaked out instead of listening to what we're about."

"Listen Phoebe," Sarah said brusquely, grabbing Phoebe's arm. "You can't have doubts now. Don't start thinking about backing out. You're in with the rest of us and you're gonna see this through to the end! It's not just gang warfare any more."

Phoebe didn't know what to say. She wasn't going to back out at all, but she was distinctly uncomfortable at the prospect of kidnapping people and holding them hostage. When she'd joined the New Civil Rights Movement, she'd never imagined their leader, Billy, would actually consider kicking off what could only be described as, well, gang warfare. First the NCRM had targeted known groups of vandals and thugs within the city, people who Phoebe didn't care too much about, because they did a lot of damage. It was when Billy and his comrades had decided that wasn't enough, that the wealthy of the city were to blame for all its wrongs – that was when Phoebe's wavering had begun. She wouldn't dare mention it to any of her friends in the group, if anything because she'd be outlawed as a traitor, and so she kept quiet. It helped the movement that the government wasn't taking too much notice, putting it down to inter-city rivalries and coming to the conclusion that nobody cared about violent thugs being killed, anyway. It was too bad that they didn't know anything of Stage 2 – or at least, not yet.

"I didn't join to murder," Phoebe muttered to herself as Sarah sauntered off, looking for an opening through which they could sneak.

* * *

"If you're an actor, how come you don't have a resume?"

"Yeah, how come?"

"I bet he's faking! He doesn't look like an actor!"

"Yeah, and ya know, if he WAS an actor, we'd have to kill him!"

Joey blinked. He hadn't expected this. He knew he should probably have lied, but he was so useless at lying that he just told the truth. That was now looking like a very bad move, so he racked his brains for something else before he got jumped.

"Uh, did I say actor? I meant, pickpocket," he said quickly, hoping he sounded at least a bit convincing. "I just said that so, uh, I'd know what kind of guys you were. I didn't wanna go up and tell you what I really was, in case you were rich and I could, uh, mug you." Joey could have cringed at what a ridiculous explanation that was, but he didn't need to worry, because the four men seemed to buy it.

"I think we've got a smart one here, Dave!" the short, stocky man said, gleefully slapping Joey on the back so hard that he stumbled forwards. "We sure could use him."

Dave nodded. "Yeah, we sure could. What's your name?" he asked Joey.

"Michael," Joey replied, managing to somehow maintain this 'thinking on your feet' lark. He didn't quite know what these guys' game was, but he was pretty sure it wasn't anything like helping old ladies across the street. If he was going to be roped into helping them, he preferred to do it under a pseudonym.

"Well, Michael, we feel you could be a useful asset to our team," Dave went on, stepping closer and faking a friendly air. Joey could easily tell someone who was a bad actor, and this was definitely one. "What do you say? Fancy joining our little gang? There's a lot of money in it…"

Joey gasped, but it wasn't at the prospect of wads of cash that elicited that reaction. Rather, it was the cool metal of a gun that he suddenly felt pressed into his back, meaning the decision was effectively taken out of his hands. He nodded reluctantly, and Dave smiled an unpleasant smile.

"Good, good," he said. "Exactly what we wanted to hear. Welcome to the team, Joey." He shook Joey's hand. "Your first job will be coming up soon, so you won't even have time to get bored."

Joey froze in the darkness as the other four men started discussing the next mugging they were going to attempt. This had all happened so fast and he was still stunned, not knowing what to do. He couldn't escape, that much was sure, but he certainly didn't want to attack people. All he'd done was pack a bag and head out to his girlfriend's house, and inadvertently walk into a danger zone. Fear rose in his throat as Dave beckoned him to join them in their huddle, and Joey had no option but to obey.

* * *

Rachel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and peered at the photograph, laughing when she realised it was Ross and Monica as kids, fighting in the back garden. Her boyfriend looked just as cute back then, even when he was trying to get his sister in some sort of headlock.

Ross came back in his bedroom seconds later, and joined Rachel on the double bed. They were both lying on their stomachs facing the bottom of the bed, Ross resting his head on Rachel's shoulder as she flipped through the photo album.

"Oh my God, here's one of all of us before the prom!" she squealed after a moment, pointing to a large photograph of her, Monica and Ross before their senior year prom in high school. Ross' parents had insisted on taking rolls of film of their children and Rachel, being as she was Monica's closest friend, so it wasn't surprising to find a load of pictures from that time. "Wow, that dress I wore was really horrible," Rachel mused.

Ross laughed. "No, it wasn't. You looked gorgeous, as always." He rubbed her leg with his foot, and she smiled at him. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you to dance that night."

Rachel rested her chin in her hand. "I do remember you staring at me a lot when I was dancing with Chip. Why didn't you ask me?"

Ross's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? You hadn't gone to the prom with me, Rach. I couldn't just walk up and, and ask you to dance! And anyway, I was way too nervous."

Rachel thought back to that night, when she'd reluctantly let Chip lead her across the dancefloor as if she was a show dog being put through its paces for the judges. The only reason she'd agreed to go with him was because he was so popular, and had kept giving her roses to persuade her. She'd been hoping Ross might ask her, if only because she felt so comfortable with him and knew he'd make her laugh all evening. It also wouldn't have meant she spent the following day at the clinic, because Chip had tried to make her go all the way and she'd resisted, but hadn't been sure if what they HAD done could have got her pregnant. It had been terrifying, and Ross had been there to hold her hand, as a friend. Seven years later, here they were, together at last.

"I wish you had," was all she said. Ross pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"I wish I had too," he smiled. "But hey, we can dance all we like these days."

Rachel nodded absently. "Hey, do you remember the summer after your second year at college, when you came back home and I met you down the street?"

"Yeah, of course I remember!" Ross said eagerly. "You were wearing this amazing bikini top thing, and you were all tanned… I couldn't stop thinking about you all day."

Rachel felt herself blushing. Ross could be so straightforward about stuff, and she'd get embarrassed when he described her like that. She cleared her throat and nudged him gently.

"But you were with Carol," she reminded him sagely, and he groaned. "Well, you were! And I was with Tony…"

"So you were," Ross agreed. "Two people who were completely wrong for us. How weird is that? And then the first person I saw back home was you, and you looked incredible. And all I could think was, why didn't I ever ask her to dance? Not that I thought it would have made a difference, but…" Now Ross was blushing and it was so adorable that Rachel couldn't resist kissing his cheek, and then tilting his head so that she could reach his lips. He put up no resistance as her tongue massaged his, and she eventually felt his left hand creeping over her back and underneath the T-shirt she was wearing. It was one of his that she'd adopted, and his fingers slipped easily inside the fabric, stroking the soft skin on her back. It was a comforting gesture as much as a sexual one, and Rachel felt warmth spread through her. As long as Ross was beside her, she was safe.

Rachel let out a little moan as Ross bent to kiss her neck, and in the next movement he'd rolled her onto her back and settled on top of her, framing her head with his arms as he propped himself up. She closed her eyes as his kisses continued, all over her face, and his hand had slid around to stroke her slim stomach. She tensed involuntarily as he moved it up very slowly, until he was at her breasts, where he paused, almost as if he was asking for permission. She opened her eyes and grinned at him.

"All yours, sweetie," she whispered, and arched her back so that his hand moved upwards. She enjoyed watching his eyes widen when he realised she wasn't wearing a bra. "I took it off in your bathroom earlier," she said cheekily. "You know, just on the off-chance…"

Ross smirked. "Off-chance nothing. You know I can't say no to you." He dipped his head and ran his tongue down her throat, all the while rocking his hips against hers. "I love you," he murmured before she lifted her arms and he tugged the shirt off her, throwing it to the floor. Now she was half-naked, but she didn't feel self-conscious – or at least, not as much as their first time, when she'd been shaking so much she could barely concentrate on what was happening. She was still shy when his eyes roamed over her body, as they invariably did, but she was secure in the knowledge it was through nothing but sheer love, desire and worship that he stared at her.

Without another word, Rachel had forced Ross' shirt off too, to join hers on the floor, and they kissed deeply, in a way that left them breathless when they broke apart. Ross started to kiss his way down her body, lingering on her chest and then moving to her stomach, where he licked her ticklish bellybutton and made her laugh loudly. Rachel had time to briefly hope Monica wasn't overhearing, before Ross had pressed an urgent hand into her shorts. His touch was always light and sensitive, and Rachel cried out when she felt his fingers on her, through her thin knickers, and then she told him to take his jeans off. With them both in their underwear, things rapidly became very heated, and it wasn't long until their sweat was mingling on their bodies, and their flesh was burning against each other.

"I need you Ross, please, I love you," Rachel breathed, kissing him. "Make love to me." She knew those words would be his undoing, if ever he needed one.

"If you insist," he smiled, kissing her nose. "Just give me a second, babe."

Rachel was impatient, waiting for him to find a condom, but it only took seconds, and then he was right on top of her, making her feel so wanted and safe and special. As he entered her, kissing her face as he did, she knew she was joined to him forever. She never wanted to be apart from this man. She buried her hands in his hair as he rocked in and out of her, bringing them both within inches of ecstasy. Rachel urged him on in hushed tones, uttered his name in a voice full of lust, and soon it was all over for both of them in a haze of groans and cries.

He collapsed on top of her, and they lay in silence for a while, Rachel trying to catch her breath. Her head was almost hanging off the bed, and she manoeuvred herself further down, taking a sleepy Ross with her. He lifted his head and gazed at her, smiling, and then brushed the damp hair off her sticky forehead.

"No matter what happens, Rach, I love you so much," he said, quietly and sincerely. Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat and traced his jawline with her index finger.

"I love you so much, too," she replied. "No matter what happens."

He nodded, and rolled off her. She reached over and pulled a blanket on top of them both, and snuggled in a bundle of satisfaction, they fell asleep at length.

* * *

**A/N:** So, what did you think? I know, typical RR,but come on, they've just started dating practically, they'd be having a lot of sex ;) Review button's down there, go ahead, make my day! But no flaming, alrighty? 


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